


Sordid

by writingandchocolatemilk



Series: SpaMano Oneshots [30]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Pride and Prejudice Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 05:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12698082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/pseuds/writingandchocolatemilk
Summary: Meanwhile, Lovino's collar was far too tight, and Antonio had stolen his top hat quite maliciously. It clashed horrifically with the Spaniard's pink petticoat, but Lovino had drank too much wine, and was finding it rather charming.





	Sordid

**Author's Note:**

> **Anonymous said :** Prompt: graceful
> 
> **A "Pride and Prejudice" -y AU. There is more to this. Early 1800s.**

"They wouldn't happen to have music like this in your home state, would they?" Antonio asked, clapping along to the violin.

"No, my home state is much more committed to vying over the Papacy than doing anything as fun as a ball," Lovino laughed into Antonio's ear. "All our balls have political tension and intrigue, and not nearly enough dancing!"

The dresses swirled on the marble floor in front of them. Mauve was in vogue, and while Lovino didn't find it a very flattering color, he had to admit that the English had an astonishing talent to make drab things look moderately tasteful in between the oaken support beams of the hall.

Meanwhile, Lovino's collar was far too tight, and Antonio had stolen his top hat quite maliciously. It clashed horrifically with the Spaniard's pink petticoat, but Lovino had drank too much wine, and was finding it rather charming.

The dance finished, and the dancers clapped up to the band on the balcony overhead, and the line dispersed. New partners formed, and Lovino glanced over at Antonio.

"It's a wonder you don't choose a poor, besotted girl to dance with." Lovino casually surveyed the room, but no one caught his eye. "I'm sure every woman in here is dying to speak with a foreigner."

Antonio smiled and leaned close to Lovino's ear. "I could ask the same of yourself. The charming Italian gentleman, with rumors he was being considered for the Papacy himself, before a sordid affair disgraced him and he removed himself to England; who wouldn't love to have your attention?"

Lovino felt a drunken smile flash across his face. " _Me_? The  _Pope_? And it seems you and you alone have garnered my attention this evening."

Antonio tilted his head. "And how I enjoy your attention, Lovino." He turned away, and Lovino was surprised to realize how close they had been standing to one another. "And where," Antonio said loudly, "is my darling sister? We  _must_  get her on the dancefloor!"

Emma appeared, face flushed, hair cropped short around her ears. "Lovino!" she chirped. "I had no idea you were here!"

"My darling Emma!" Lovino grabbed her around the waist and spun her around in a circle. "As always, a picture of elegance and sophistication in the dreary mundane that plague these private balls."

Emma laughed and squirmed. "I had no idea everyone was going to be wearing pink—"

"And how splendid you are for ignoring this fact!"

"And there was  _such_  a mishap with the scissors—"

"And yet it only makes you the loveliest woman in here." Lovino released her. "I fear our Antonio may be trying to have us dance together."

Antonio pressed another cup of wine into Lovino's hand. "And what a sore friend and brother I would be if I didn't insist the two best dancers in this entire mansion dignify us with a small galivant around the room."

Lovino rolled his eyes. "He's only asking because he has gotten me drunk."

Emma clapped her hands together. "Oh but Lovino! You are such a marvelous dancer!"

"Well if you two are going to  _insist_ —"

Antonio put his arm around Lovino's shoulder. "We do insist."

Emma stepped on his toe on the first note. She stepped on his other toe when they faced each other once again, and didn't turn back toward the women's side of the room until three beats after the rest of her line. Her chest bumped into his when she tripped over the hem of her dress.

"This is my favorite song!" she attempted to whisper to him. "This next part—" She grinned and tilted her head back and forth to the rhythm, forgetting to walk around another woman.

Antonio joined them on the next dance with a woman he had plucked from the crowd.

"You know, Lovino," Antonio said as he circled around him, "you really are one of the best dancer in this entire hall."

Lovino resisted the urge to spin and follow Antonio's path around him. "I wish I could compliment you similarly."

Antonio laughed. Lovino's stomach flipped.

"Perhaps you should teach me then, Lovino!"

Lovino and Emma came together again, fingertips pressed against one another. Lovino couldn't remember when he had learned to dance like the English; it was like learning a new language, something he had picked up along the way in bits and pieces. How Antonio had not figured out the turns and—

Antonio treaded on the back of Lovino's heels.

 

* * *

 

The pond steamed in the cold air. The sky overhead swirled with the promise of rain. The trees seemed almost black against the clouds, despite being thickly leaved with green.

Lovino aimed halfheartedly at the geese overhead from underneath the tree line. He was cold and damp down to the soles of his feet, and Antonio had already outgunned him. Finally, he fired, but the birds flew on. Antonio fired next to him, then slung the gun over his shoulder.

"Good shot," Antonio tried, trotting towards his prize.

"Hardly. Does your dog do anything other than slobber over my boots, or was he once a hunting dog?" Lovino's teeth chattered.

"Oh, he's Emma's dog. I thought he'd like the exercise."

"It's a dog."

Antonio shrugged. "So, I'm guessing your royal schooling didn't include shooting practice?"

"My family didn't own acre upon acre of land to prance around in after ducks." Lovino clicked his tongue. "Or, well, we did, but I was never one for prancing around in our estate. My grandfather was the outdoorsman, while my brother and I were the meager scholars of things like utensils and proper etiquette."

"And now you're in England."

Lovino laughed. "Where proper etiquette is marching around in a bog all dreary day, yes."

Antonio walked backwards to face Lovino, gun balanced over his shoulders. His undershirt clung to him in the damp, though it was his fault for refusing to wear a petticoat. "Surely, it's not all bad? After all, you did agree to come with me to this mire, while I'm sure Emma would have appreciated your company with our beloved father instead."

"All your beloved father wishes to speak of is marriage to our darling Emma, which is a conversation I've had far too many times in both Italian and English. Perhaps I  _should_  have become a priest."

Antonio faced forward. His steps were loud to Lovino, who hadn't expected this to be a sore topic.

"Why  _don't_ you marry Emma, Lovino? You two get along well enough—" He shook his head, licked his lips like he was trying to rid them of a foul taste.

"She's your sister—"

"Step-sister, and only so out of benevolence from my step-father so that she should could have prospects."

Lovino stopped walking. Antonio kept on for a few paces before realizing Lovino was no longer with him, and then turned around. Lovino crossed his arms. The gun was awkward in his hand, pressed against his upper arm.

"And do you  _want_  me to marry your step-sister, Antonio?"

"No I—"

"Well then stop talking about it!"

Antonio rushed forward towards Lovino, throwing his gun to the side, breath streaming in the cold air. Lovino started to take a step back, but Antonio grabbed his shoulders and… and just held him there.

They stood there, staring at one another, the gun still in Lovino's hands, and oh, how he wished he could put it down, Antonio's hands on his shoulders.

"I…" Antonio started, words a rasp. He cleared his throat, but his voice was still dark and quiet. "I don't ask you if you're going to marry her to insinuate something about the two of us, I ask you for  _Emma's_ benefit, because she thinks you're going to propose to her, and I cannot… I cannot talk to her in good faith if  _I_  am the reason you continue to disappoint her."

The metal in Lovino's hands was cold.

"Am I, Lovino?"

A raindrop dripped down the back of Lovino's collar.

Antonio shook him slightly. "Lovino?"

"What do you wish me to say that does not go against our—our religion and our families and our society?"

Antonio gripped him tighter. "The truth."

The gun slid from Lovino's hands to his feet. "I think of Emma as if she were my own sister."

"And what of  _me_ , Lovino? Am I a brother to you?" He clung to Lovino. "If what you feel towards me is familial, I beg of you to tell me, and the matter shall never be brought up again. But I beseech you,  _tell_   _me_ so that I can look Emma in the eye and not feel as though I were cheating her of you."

Lovino's hands were useless at his sides.

" _Lovino_."

Lovino crashed forward, pressing himself against Antonio's chest, forcing their lips together. Antonio wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer, closer, kissing back fervently.

Lovino had kissed women before, had even touched them. And kissing Antonio was no different physically, besides the stubble of his beard, and yet it lit Lovino on fire, gave him a feeling of urgency, of  _want_  and  _need_  that Lovino had never felt before, to touch, to be closer, made his stomach ache and knees weak.

What did one do with another man?

Lovino shoved Antonio away, hard; the air scalded his lungs like fire as soon as Antonio wasn't sharing it.

"Lovino—"

"We're going to catch our death if we stay out in this weather. Grab the guns."


End file.
